Baking Season
by Ephemeral Blue
Summary: Izzie needs to stop baking, Alex is gaining weight and Meredith realizes she needs to help her people.


**A/N: **This takes place after Season 3

Izzie started baking after the wedding, the wedding that didn't happen, that left her best friend devastated and possibly incapable to trust or commit ever again to another man. Started baking after finding out George didn't pass his interns exam. Started baking after Bailey didn't make Chief resident. Started baking after realizing _Callie_ made Chief Resident and after breaking up with Derek.

There were baskets everywhere full of anything that could be baked in an oven, cupcakes, brownies, cookies, lemon bars and muffins. God there were so many muffins and the nurses were starting to refuse them and sweet Joe accepted each dozen with a compassioned smile.

After the Chief instilled the strict hours at Seattle Grace there was plenty of time to keep her occupied. She went to work, performed intense surgeries, helped countless patients then came home and baked. Baking was taking over her life and there seemed to be no end in sight.

"This has got to stop," Alex mentioned three weeks later when he tried looking for a glass in the cupboard and found empty baskets instead. "Meredith, make it stop."

He was right, it did need to stop but there was something comforting about Izzie baking, she was relieving the turmoil surrounding them all and there was always something to grab and go when pagers were going off and something to snack on after a hard day.

"She's dealing the only way she can. Leave her alone," Meredith said while grabbing a fresh cupcake on her way out. Alex took a bite of a double chocolate chip cookie and glared at her.

"She should've used that money to open her own damn bakery," he chimed in as he got into the car and buckled up.

Meredith looked at him and he sighed.

"Ok, I'm a jerk. You've just got to make her stop. I've gain 10 pounds. Living with two chicks I should be losing weight, not packing it."

He received a glare in response.

It was true, it never went this long which meant something was wrong, something none of them seemed to realize, which made things a little more complicated since all her friends seemed to let it go on unnoticed.

"I'll talk to her tonight," Meredith promised and started for the hospital.

When she came home later that night Izzie was in the kitchen again, she was covered in baking power and the house smelled like fresh cookies.

"Try these," she requested and handed over a steamy oatmeal cookie. "I used chocolate chips instead of raisins, what do you think?" she asked and continued to remove the rest from the pan carefully. There was an art to it. The wrong movement determined weather you had a perfect disk or crumbled debris.

Meredith took a bite and smiled in satisfaction. "They're great," she confirmed. In all the time she knew Izzie and all the time she'd eaten Izzie's baking, not once had she come across something that wasn't less than extraordinary.

A relieved smile spread across Izzie's lips as she assorted them beautifully on a plate and set them in front of her friend. "Thanks, have more," she encouraged.

Now seemed like the perfect time to bring up the bake-a-thon. "Izzie, why all the baking?" she asked and thanked her for the glass of milk.

Izzie looked up and Meredith saw a flash of something in her eyes, she turned quickly around and grabbed another metal sheet nonchalantly. "I feel like baking," she responded but there was restrain in her words and a tension to her shoulders.

"For three weeks?"

Izzie sighed and Meredith watched her movements carefully, the slight droop of her head, the sad slump of her shoulders. There was something that no one seemed to catch and for a moment Meredith felt like a terrible friend. How many times had Izzie been there for her? What a great way to repay that friendship. Izzie was her people and she needed to help her people.

"I'm fine," Izzie finally spoke and by the tone in her voice and the slam of the oven door, it was blatantly clear she wasn't fine.

Meredith knew and understood the meaning of fine. For most people Fine meant excellent, meant no worries, meant everything was ok but Fine had taken on a new meaning. Fine meant heartache. Fine meant unhappiness. Fine meant betrayal. Fine meant everything other than fine.

How did she not notice before?

"Oh, Izzie," she frowned and reached out for the hand grabbing another cookie.

Izzie looked innocent as she took a bite and stared out the window. "Seriously, I'm fine," she assured and turned graciously towards the hallway as Alex appeared temporarily diverting the conversation which was obviously high on Izzie's "Topics to Avoid" list. "Alex! Have a cookie!" she grabbed the plate, plastered a fake smile and headed right at him in determination.

It was worse than she thought. Those three words together meant trouble. _Seriously, I'm Fine_. Definitely trouble.

"Hey great, you're still baking," Alex grabbed a cookie in resolve and moved past Izzie into the kitchen towards Meredith who smiled apologetically. The look on Alex's face meant he planned to handle the situation himself.

It could go one of two ways. Alex would be insensitive and add insult to injury or he would muster up as much compassion and consideration he had in his tired body and everything could actually work out fine. Fine like the good kind of fine.

Sensitive Alex was cute and it was cute because it was obvious how hard he would try and how hopelessly he would fail which unfortunately would lead to an insensitive Alex who used insults to bully his desired outcome. Which rarely ever worked.

Meredith could see the strong tired lines of his face and noticed the inner struggle of Sensitive Alex and Jerk Boy Alex trying to compete for prominence and hoped he didn't catch the hopeless look in her eyes, she didn't want to discourage him but it was clear his honest attempt was going to fail.

Izzie was checking her pound cake when Alex finally cleared his throat and looked one last time at Meredith with determination. "Ok. What's the deal, Izzie? What's with all the baking?"

For a moment Meredith hoped it would go well, he started off with a calm and mildly concerned tone, until she saw Izzie clench the spatula in her long fingers and turn around quickly with a spark in her eyes.

"I'm baking, I bake, so back off, Alex, because I'm fine!" she warned pointing the wide tip at him in possible warning. She looked agitated and quickly angered and the last thing Meredith wanted to do was rush Alex to the ER with a spatula injury.

She had to intercept and fast, by the look on Alex's face and the challenge in Izzie's eyes, it was time to excuse him.

"Well obviously not since you've been shoving this crap down our throats for the last 3 weeks!" he yelled defensively.

Obviously Jerk Boy Alex was rearing his ugly head and he wasn't finished.

"We can't read minds, Izzie! I'm not a chick. I don't-"

It was time to put a stop now. Right now.

"Alex, go!" Meredith pointed away and grabbed the spatula from Izzie who looked determined to use deadly force against him.

Alex threw his hands up and headed towards the living room. "Whatever. Just make it stop, Meredith. No more cookies, no more muffins, no more goddamn baking!" He disappeared quickly and it gave Izzie a chance to occupy herself with a new round of muffins.

There were so many muffins already. So so many already. There was no more room, no more space. She had to find out what the problem was because Alex was right, this could not go on much longer.

Meredith brushed her hair behind her shoulders and leaned against the counter in concern. "Izzie, I'm the Queen of Fine." She looked up slowly and Meredith nodded. "I know, it's pretty pathetic, but I am. I'm the Queen of Fine and there's no way I'm going to believe you when you say you're fine because Fine doesn't mean fine anymore. It's lost its meaning; it is no longer an acceptable adjective. You've been baking for weeks. Our cupboards are starting to spit muffins at us when we walk by," she joked lightly, just testing the waters, sensing how serious she needed to be to get anything out of her stubborn lips.

Izzie bowed her head and put the egg back into the carton. Alex was easy to bully but Meredith was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to talk. She knew it, Izzie knew it. She may not want to talk but eventually she had too.

She didn't say anything right away but it was coming, weeks of pent up emotion couldn't be contained like some caged animal for long.

"I miss him," she finally said and Meredith walked around and stood by her friend who looked upset and defeated, who baked because it was her way of dealing with things, an easy fix to her problems. When she baked she didn't have to think and if she didn't have to think, she wouldn't remember the way it felt to miss him.

Meredith knew what it meant to miss someone. She missed Derek more than she'd ever imagined she could. He was a constant force in her life and it hurt to see him and not touch him; it hurt to hear him and not speak to him; it hurt to see him everyday, work with him, stand next to him in the elevator and then leave him. Derek was alive and Denny wasn't.

Of course Izzie missed him, she would always miss him and it seemed during the hard times of life, Denny was an unfailing source and reminder of what she lost, of the love she didn't have, of the support that slipped through her fingers. Denny was gone and although Meredith saw significant progress, all this baking proved that her heart was still tender with his memory.

"Izzie, I'm sorry." Meredith knew it was a lame response but it was hard to identify with her position, it was hard to know what it felt like to lose the possible love of your life to death.

Izzie smiled sadly and sighed deeply, her eyes troubled and weighty. "You know, it's just hard. I miss talking to him, I miss being around him," she added then scratched at her hair and shook her head as if trying to shake the memory, trying to forget it. "And it hurts. I love him and it hurts everyday. That's why I bake," she laughed sadly and grabbed the forgotten egg again.

The baking had to stop so Meredith took the eggs away and put them back into the refrigerator much to Izzie's chagrin.

"Look, we appreciate all the baking. We love your baking, you're amazing at it. The best. But you have to stop," Meredith stood in front of the refrigerator with her arms crossed, ready for combat if needed. She was small and Izzie could take her if she wanted too but it had to stop. "No more baking."

Izzie looked unhappy, her brown eyes lost, her lips in a frown. "Meredith, you're taking away my security blanket, just let me…"

Understandably so, Izzie was going to stay upset but Meredith couldn't allow her to continue. "I know and I'm sorry but maybe you should just, take a break?" she suggested and touched Izzie's arm as comfortingly as possible. She didn't want to make things worse, she wanted to make them better, she wanted to help Izzie feel better.

It was hard and Meredith could read Izzie's expression clearly, she wanted to throw her aside and continue but there was a beaten look about Izzie that made it difficult to struggle against. Izzie was beautiful, even in sadness, she was classic and overwhelmingly compassionate and it pained Meredith to see her like this. It pained her to know she hadn't realized it before.

"I guess I've been a pretty bad friend," Meredith finally broke their silence, hoping to turn things around and by the tip of a smile on the corner of Izzie's mouth, it looked promising. "You know, my life never makes sense and I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner."

Izzie looked away slowly, into the living room where she could hear Alex watching television. "You know, it's just that I think about him all the time," she looked over at Meredith and rolled her eyes ashamed. "All the time. I can't stop. I try to think of something else but it doesn't go away," she frowned sadly, her blond hair hiding her face in a golden drape.

Meredith could physically feel the sadness that enveloped Izzie, her emitting emotion was tangible.

"I miss talking the most," she said so softly, "I miss talking to him so much," she laughed sadly and Meredith could see the glisten in her eyes. "It just, it's killing me you know?" Izzie wiped gracefully at her face.

It was so sad; Meredith reached out and touched her, hoping to help somehow. "I know how it hurts to miss that," she spoke comfortingly. She knew what it was like to miss talking to the person you loved, missed hearing their voice, missed their lovingly words of comfort. She knew what it meant and it made Izzie's pain devastating.

"Yeah well, I have to stop thinking about it so much. I have to," Izzie said hoarsely, she turned around and grabbed a muffin, "if I can't bake then I can eat."

Meredith laughed and watched her bite into the golden skin of the muffin and reached for a cookie.

They'd somehow moved to the floor and conversation had slowly geared away from her pain towards almost normal. Alex walked in sometime later. He hadn't seen them until he opened the refrigerator door and found them on the floor, the plate of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies almost gone. "What?" Meredith asked him upon seeing his insensitive expression.

Alex pulled a bottle of water out and closed the door. "Chicks," he muttered and walked out.

Izzie didn't look at him but the smile she once had was gone again. Meredith nudged her with her knee and shook her head apologetically. "He's a guy," she shrugged and Izzie nodded grabbing another cookie.

"A stupid McBastard," Izzie insulted repulsively and finished the rest of her milk.

Sometimes Izzie still had her sense of humor. "It's Alex, don't let him bother you. He's just pissed that he gained 10 pounds," she admitted, "it's his fat complex that makes him insensitive," she added.

For the first time that night Meredith heard the sweet laugh of Izzie. It was so genuine and Meredith felt a little proud of herself for a victorious moment. Then her phone rang and Izzie stopped laughing and looked curious.

She looked at the caller ID. "Oh, it's George," she answered it. "Hi." Meredith watched as Izzie stood up and walked to get more milk. Half listening she stood up and rinsed her cup at the sink. "Oh ok. Yeah, tomorrow, got it."

As Meredith finished she met Izzie's eyes with disappointment. "Izzie, no more baking."

"I'm not, this was the last one," she promised setting the pound cake on a plate. Meredith could see the sadness had returned, just like that. It left for a moment and Izzie was back to normal, but just for a moment and it happened again. Her need for baking.

"Iz, you're hopeless," she smiled sadly and started putting things in the dishwasher.

"I think I'm going to bed," Izzie said as she finished giving Meredith the last glass. "I should probably sleep," she muttered and rubbed her eyes slowly.

Meredith cleaned her hands and helped Izzie out of the kitchen, her hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. She felt when Izzie sighed deeply.

"Thanks, Meredith," Izzie stopped and looked at her graciously, her eyes weary and just a little bit wet, "Thanks for talking to me," she squeezed her hand and Meredith smiled.

"You're my people," she reminded, because even though lives were complicated and busy, they were friends and she loved her friends.

Alex was still in the living room when they passed by towards the stairs. He didn't even have the decency to look up. "Everything better?" he asked shoveling a cupcake in his mouth.

Izzie rolled her eyes and Meredith refrained from slapping the back of his head. "Yeah, everything's better."

"So what was it?" he finally turned around and looked surprisingly caring and when Izzie ascertained he wasn't deserving of her attention Meredith answered with a sigh.

"Denny," she said, "she misses Denny."

Alex nodded and turned around. "Ok."

After fighting the temptation to hit him again, she turned back to see the puzzled look on Izzie's face.

"Denny?" she asked softly and Meredith caught her gaze. Caught the moment something shifted. She looked back at her and there was something in her eyes that felt unsettling. Meredith moved closer.

"You were talking about Denny, right? You miss Denny," she asked and watched carefully as a realization came to Izzie's face. She saw how a change danced in her eyes and suddenly it was different.

Izzie nodded, "Of course," she said almost too quickly, "Of course it's Denny, who else would it be?" she almost smiled and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Denny," she whispered and Meredith watched as though her heart were breaking all over again. She turned around slowly and started up the stairs. "I'm going to sleep."

Meredith stood nailed to the floor. She watched closely as Izzie disappeared out of her sight. She stood there for a few long moments before walking over to the couch and sitting beside Alex.

He started saying something but she couldn't hear him and as his voice drifted further and further away she couldn't stop thinking about the look on Izzie's face after she mentioned Denny. She looked almost confused, almost caught off guard; it almost seemed as if Denny had been the last thing on her mind.

Meredith looked up to the staircase slowly and replayed the last few minutes over again, Izzie's face did change, everything changed and for the first time that night or ever did Meredith consider that it wasn't Denny she still missed but that maybe Izzie missed someone else.


End file.
